The Tragic Life of Mary Alice Brandon
by Vala Innada
Summary: Alice has a secret. She is quickly starting to believe she may very well be going crazy, but with her father's political career pushing forward and all of Biloxi society watching, what will her family do if they find out? -Canon-
1. Chapter 1

**Full Summary**

"I'm seventeen years old, my thoughts should be filled with clothes and boys, not whether or not I am dying."

Alice has a secret. What started out as painful migraines and black outs is quickly turning into something else entirely. Alice is starting to believe she may very well be going crazy but with her father's political career pushing forward and all of Biloxi society watching her every move, what will her family do if they find out?

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Chapter 1

Pain...I scream as the pain splits my head. I grab my hair and quickly close the door of my room which luckily I was standing right next to when the pain struck. It's getting worse, what started out as slight headaches and blurred vision only a year ago has become overwhelming pain and flashes of light. My knees hit the floor...hard, if my head didn't hurt so badly I'd probably already feel the bruises forming. Vivid colors begin to assault my vision as i squeeze my eyes shut willing myself to not make a noise, my eyes watering, my hands still clenched in my hair. I slide to the floor as the colors become more and more muted and then...darkness.

As I open my eyes, the light from the room causes another flash of pain through my head. Closing them quickly I asses my current status. On the floor...check, head feeling like I just got trampled by a horse...check. Since neither my mother nor sister is here, this latest episode must have gone un-noticed. I know they're worried, heck I'm worried, I'm seventeen years old, my thoughts should be filled with clothes and boys, not whether or not I am dying.

I don't feel sick, besides the occasional "episode" as I like to refer to them as, I feel fine. But every time it happens, I can see the worry on my families faces, though in my parents case it's probably more fear that someone will notice. My father works for the mayor and is involved in politics; in fact, he's planning on running for Governor in the next elections for 1920. So crazy/sick daughter isn't great on the campaign posters. My sisters alright though, her name is Cynthia. I know she worries and that she is actually worried about me, unlike my mother who is more worried about if Linda Jameson with the historical society will find out.

"Mary Alice! Come down and help me with lunch dear, Mrs. Jameson will be joining us this afternoon."

Speak of the devil...

"Coming mother!" I yell, then grab my head again. oww...head...pain...ugh.

"Mary Alice darling you look pale, are you alright?" My mother asks as I walk around the corner to the kitchen.

You would almost think that was concern for my well-being if it weren't for the frantic glances at the front door as my mother asked me.

"I'm fine mother, just a little tired. What would you like me to do?"

"Well if you are sure..." my mother says while biting her lip. "Slice up some cheese for me dear to go with the bread that I made."

"Where's Cynthia?" I ask, she's normally begging to help out in the kitchen.

"Oh she's at the Harris's playing with Claire." she says while slicing bread and butting it on a serving platter.

"Oh." That would be why she didn't hear me earlier when I cried out.

I try to finish the slicing the cheese quickly so I might be able to slip away before Mrs. Jameson gets here but as is the theme of the day, no luck for Alice.

*Knock, knock, knock.*

"Mary Alice, grab the door dear."

Lovely...it's not that I have a problem with helping my mother, it's just that Mrs. Jameson loves nothing more in life then telling me what I'm doing wrong in it. And my mother would never correct such a high standing member of society so...I simply have to smile and listen to it.

I open the door to Mrs. Jameson impatiently tapping her foot.

"Well it's about time Mary Ellen, dawdling as usual I suppose. You know you shouldn't keep people waiting, I'm old dear I can't be standing about all day you know."

Oh and did I mention that she refuses to call me by my name? It's always Mary Ellen, not Mary, not Alice, not Mary Alice, nope...Mary Ellen...

I escort Mrs. Jameson to the dining room where my mother has finished laying out lunch and try to sneak toward the stairs but as is the theme of the day...

"Mary Alice, where are you going dear? Come and sit down for lunch."

"Kids these day, no respect for their elders, and the clothes! Heavens I saw one of the Woods girls running around skirt that was above her ankles just last week. Next thing we know they'll be trying to walk around in skirts pulled up to their knees Helen, I'm telling you. Shameful!"

This is about the time I start tuning out, next will be a commentary on my own clothing which I'll have you know if very fashionable. Then my hair which is somehow too thin, or that I am too short and too skinny and that a husband will never want a woman so small because I'm not fit for child bearing, etc., etc.

"So young Theodore was telling me that Mary Ellen here collapsed at school the other day, I do hope she feeling alright." Mrs. Jameson states pulling me out of my self-commentary with a jolt. She turn towards me smiling knowing by the look on my face that she's gotten ahold of great gossip.

Kill me now...

My mother looks at me with a mix of anger, surprise, and fear then quickly composes herself before Mrs. Jameson turns to her.

"Oh...well she was feeling a little ill, but nothing to worry about, she's doing quite well now. Thank you for your concern Linda."

Mrs. Jameson looks like she just swallowed a toad. It must be such a disappointment to not find out that I'm dying of a strange illness or something. Before she can pick back up I decide to take evasive action.

"Mother, do you mind if I am excused, I wanted to finish up some chores this afternoon."

"Of course dear, go on ahead."

As I get up my mother gives me the "look" letting me know that we will be talking later about my latest "episode".

I head back upstairs to my room and sit on my bed. Why can't I just be normal? Wanting to relax I pull out the latest outfit I have been working on. I love making my own clothes. In fact several of my friends have me make clothes for them as well. I love taking the patterns that my parents buy for me and changing them up or mixing parts of different patterns. I've even started working on creating my own patterns.

"Mary Alice please come downstairs, we need to talk!"

I jump realizing I've been sewing several hours and it is already starting to get dark outside. Putting my sewing materials away I head downstairs to face my very furious mother.

"What were you thinking? At school? Why didn't you tell me? Instead I find out from Mrs. Jameson without any warning. If you had told me I could have done some damage control. You know we cannot have any surprises. Your father is working very hard to be in a good position to run for governor and we cannot have this situation getting out."

"I'm sorry mother, you are right I should have told you, I just didn't want anyone to worry."

"Well of course we are worried dear but Doctor Gerald says it's nothing to be concerned about and that you are probably just getting too worked up. You just need to take it easy dear."

Of course, just an over emotional teenager, that's obviously the problem.

"I not happy that you didn't tell us Mary Alice I thought they were getting better."

My mother is delusional there is no other way to say it. I've been continuing to get worse for the past year.

"Just make sure if it happens again that you tell me, we have to be prepared for any questions that could arise." she says looking thoughtful.

"Yes, Mother." Arguing is pointless, been there, tried that. So I simply nod my head like the good little daughter that I am.

*Slam!*

"Mother, Alice I'm home!"

That would be Cynthia my sister. She's 13, so she's 4 years younger than me. And she has great timing.

"Hello Cynthia, how was your day at the Harris's?"

"It was fun, Claire and I played Jax and listened to the radio then Mr. Harris took us for ice cream!"

"Well I'm glad you enjoyed yourself honey. Why don't you wash up and you can help me with dinner. Your father will be home soon."

"Okay!" Cynthia jumped up and ran up the stairs.

She loves cooking and helps our mother almost every night. She really is a good kid, annoying sometimes, but very sweet.

I stay seated for a while thinking about my conversation with my mother then slowly get up and start walk toward the stairs to wash up as well when I start to get a sick feeling in my stomach and a chill throughout my body. I stop. It doesn't feel like a headache coming on, instead I have the strangest feeling of Deja vu. I can hear Cynthia walking back down the hall headed to come down the stairs.

"Cynthia STOP!"

I don't even know why I yelled but the next second I hear her scream and then I see her tumbling head over heels down the stairs toward me.

I jump forward to grab her before she hits the bottom but I can already tell she's hurt badly.

"Mother!" I yell but there was no need, my mother had come running the moment she had heard her scream.

"Mary Alice quickly, call Doctor Gerald, tell him to come quickly."

I race to the hall grabbing the ear piece and turning the dial as quickly as I can for Dr. Gerald's phone number.

"Hello?" Dr. Gerald's gruff voice answers the phone.

"Dr. Gerald, this is Mary Alice Brandon, you must come to our house quickly. My sister Cynthia has fallen down the stairs and is badly hurt!"

"I'm on my way." he says quickly hanging up the phone.

I turn to run back to my mother and sister as the door opens and my father steps in.

"Oh Father." I choke on the tears I'm try to suppress. "Cynthia..."

My father drops his brief case and runs down the hallway to where my mother is holding my sister sobbing. As I follow slowly behind feeling like I'm in a dream, all I can think is - How did I know?

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Well, let me know what you think so far. This is my first fan fiction so give me some feed back. Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Cynthia was confined to her bed for a week and had to have a cast put on her arm. She was lucky, she received a pretty big bump on her head but it could have been a lot worse.

I wound my long dark hair into a tidy bun and slipped on my dress and shoes before going down to the kitchen to pick up breakfast for myself and Cynthia. I had been having breakfast with her in her room since she wasn't able to come downstairs before heading off to school for the day.

"Hello Mother," I said as I walked into the kitchen.

"Good morning Mary Alice, here is the breakfast tray." she finished setting the silverware on the tray and handed it to me.

"Thank you," I grabbed the tray and headed back upstairs.

"Good morning, good morning!" I sang as I opened the door to my sisters' room.

"Ugg, why are you always so chipper in the mornings?" Cynthia asked as she pulled the coveres higher over her head.

"Haha, why are you always so drab?" I teased as I walked over to the side of her bed and placed the tray on the nightstand.

"Besides just think, today is your last day of bed rest, tomorrow you are free again." I said plopping on the side of her bed and yanking down the covers.

I was rewarded with a slight smile at this. She had been going stir crazing having to stay in bed for a full week.

"Now come on, Mother made your favorite, French toast with eggs and toast."

That prompted a quick exit of the covers as she sat up to receive the tray in her lap.

"Ha, knew that would receive a response. Here you are." I sat the tray in her lap and started eating my portion.

"So," I asked as I took a drink of my orange juice, "what's on your agenda for tomorrow for your first day of freedom?"

"Hmmm...well father mentioned us all going out to see a play to celebrate." Cynthia said with her mouth full of eggs.

"That sounds like fun." I said taking another bite of my eggs and shaking my head at her.

"Alice...I have a question..."

"Yeah," I asked looking up at her. She was looking down at her plate and biting her lip.

"Well, I was wondering, before I fell...you told me to stop."

I swallowed hard as I my stomach dropped. I had hoped she had forgotten about that from hitting her head and everything that had been going on.

"That's not a question..." I said, stalling the inevitable.

"How did you know I was about to trip? You couldn't even see me from where you were at. I tripped after you yelled."

She was looking at me intensely. As if she could determine the answer without me having to respond if she could just look deeply enough. The problem was, I didn't have an answer. I had thought about little else this week and I had come no closer to an answer.

"I don't know..." I started, looking down at my lap, "I just had a bad feeling that something bad was about to happen and I just sort of acted before I even realized what I had done."

I looked back up to see my sister staring at her food. Then she looked up and smiled at me.

"Well next time try to speak up a little sooner, okay?" she said trying to lighten the mood.

I forced a smile on my face. I appreciated that she wasn't pushing the issue, especially when I didn't have any other answers for her.

"I'll see what I can do." I said while standing up. "Well I'd better get going before I am late for school. I'll see you later this afternoon."

"Okay, have fun." Cynthia said sarcastically while smiling.

The one benefit to her being confined to her bed has been that she was able to miss a week of school. Maybe falling down the stairs did have an upside, maybe if I 'accidently' fell down the stairs, I could get out of final exams next week. Intriguing thought, but probably not worth the risk. Darn…

I picked up the tray and headed back down stairs. After depositing the tray back in the kitchen, I grabbed my books and headed out the door.

"Hey Sarah," I said as I closed the front door. My best friend was sitting on the porch steps waiting for me like usual drawling on the cover of her notebook.

"Hey Alice, how is Cynthia doing? She's off bed rest after today right?" she asked while closing her notebook and standing up.

As she started to get up, the morning sun lite up her curly golden blond hair. If Sarah wasn't one of the sweetest people in the world, I would really hate her. She's so beautiful, tall, gorgeous hair, fair skinned, someone parents can be proud of. Everything I am not. These are not new feelings, I always feel a little in awe of Sarah. I know I shouldn't be jealous of her, it's not like it's her fault that she's beautiful and I'm so plain, but I haven't quite managed to get my heart on board with my brain.

"Yeah, she's pretty excited. Still has the cast of course but she's good." I said as we started walking the 3 blocks to school.

"That's good, I'm glad to hear she is doing better." Sarah said sincerely.

Unlike like some people who ask because it's what they should do but you can tell they really don't care Sarah really cares about people and when she askes how you are, she really wants to know.

"So," Sarah said turning to me with a huge grin on her face, "only one week left of school and then we are going to be seniors! Can you believe that we only have one more year of school left?"

"It does seem to be going by very quickly." I said. "Have you thought about what you want to do yet? Are you planning on going to college?"

"Well I'm thinking about the University of Mississippi right now though I have no idea what I would want to study. Besides, mother and father both say the main point of college is to meet a husband so I guess it doesn't really matter that much what I study." Sarah said looking thoughtful.

"Do you really believe that?" I asked, "You really just want to be a house wife and nothing else?"

"Well I of course am looking forward to being a mother, but I'm definitely not one of those radical women who want to vote and say we should be able to work in the same jobs as men if that is what you mean. You don't want to do that right?" Sarah looked over at me like I could possibly be about to grow a third arm right in front of her.

"Well, I don't know." I replied thoughtfully, "I would like to go to school and do something with fashion I think. I love making cloths and would like to do more with that."

Sarah smiled looking relieved, "Oh, well of course. I can certainly see you doing something like that. And once you are married, that is something that would still be very useful. I wish I was as good as you are with making clothes."

I smiled, but it was a very fake smile because now that I had brought it up, I started to think that I did not want to sit at home making clothes for my family and friends. I wanted more, I wanted my own shop and to design my own patterns and when I imagined all this, I did not imagine a husband as part of my plan. Maybe I was a radical like Sarah had accused me of.

"So what are John's plans?" I ask trying to shift the conversation. John is Sarah's older brother who is graduating next week.

"He says he wants to join the army," Sarah said her voice tight. "Mother is frantic, and how can she not be? We're in the middle of a war. I worried Alice."

Poor Sarah, I really like John. I can't imagine him not being around. I start thinking about him going off to war and what it will be like for him only to have my thoughts ripped away by a familiar head splitting pain.

Colors start swimming though my vision as I drop my books and grab my head. On some level I can hear Sarah calling my name but I block it out as I do everything in my power to hold on to conciseness.

As I fight to hold on, the colors start to do something they've never done before. They move out like I'm looking at a picture too close, where I didn't even know what I was looking at was a picture. As they move out, I'm able to make things out in the picture, and then it starts to move like I'm watching a film but it's clearer than any film I've ever seen. It's like I'm actually there.

I see men in uniforms sitting in trenches and the new war tanks I've seen pictures of in the newspapers in the distance. I can't hear anything but I can see they are talking to one another. As I focus on two of the men I realize one is Sarah's brother, John. He laughs at the other man like he has just heard a funny joke. Then other men start yelling and waving their hands and everyone ducks down to take cover. A second later an explosion rocks the trench. I try to flinch back but I can't move; I'm frozen.

Dirt and dust go flying and I can no longer see anything. John! Where is John? Is he okay? I squint my eyes, straining to make out the figures emerging as the dust and dirt start to settle. I can see men moving, checking on the men beside them to make sure they are unharmed. But I can see a few of the men are not moving. And as the dust finally clears I see the man that was telling the joke move over to John. But John isn't smiling any more. He's not moving because there is a large piece of shrapnel through his chest. Two feet, two feet between John and the other man and yet one is alive and John is dead. I can feel the tears running down my face, and the sobs building in my chest.

"Alice, oh God, Alice! Please, please wake up. It's okay, it will be okay…"

The picture starts to dissipate. I can feel my head hammering again and I can hear someone hysterically crying. I open my eye and look up to see Sarah's panicked face above me. I realize then it's not Sarah that's crying. It's me.

"Oh, Sarah…" I begin as a fresh wave of body racking sobs burst out as I see her face. Because in seeing her lively though frightened face, all I can think of is a face so much like hers, but blank and unseeing. Never to smile again.


End file.
